


Washing Up

by MusicalLuna



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Curtain Fic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Lace Panties, Laundry, Lingerie, M/M, Making Out, Minor Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-07-20 12:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16137728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: Steve and Tony do laundry. And other things.





	Washing Up

**Author's Note:**

> i’m not sure when i wrote this or why i didn’t post it, but here you go!

“We need to do the washing,” Steve says one morning, staring at the pile of various colored laces lying in a heap on the bathroom floor.

Tony whines and sticks his head out of the shower. “We can have them sent out you know. Nobody has to know they’re ours!”

Steve turns a little pink, but a furrow digs in between his brows. “I’m not worried about that. I’d just—rather we do it ourselves. They’re private, Tony. I want to take care of them.”

Tony purses his lips, shifting his weight. God, he can’t say no to Steve. “Fine,” he says, and sighs with a little extra punch of drama. “Let’s do the washing.”

Steve looks up at him and smiles, soft and sweet. “Thanks, Tony.”

Heat crawls up Tony’s throat. “Don’t mention it,” he mutters.

-

When Tony gets out of the shower, he pulls on a pair of boxers and a tank and then takes an armful of the dirty underwear. Steve gets the rest.

They troop down to the central laundry where there are some industrial-sized sinks they can do the washing in. There’s even a washboard. Why the hell there’s a washboard Tony has no idea. Does he live in the future or not?

“We could just use your abs,” Tony says, “I’d enjoy that more.”

Steve grins and hipchecks him. “Shut up and fill the sink, Tony.”

Tony sighs, a smile tugging at his lips, and says, “Yes, dear.”

While the sink is filling, Tony tugs at the waistband of Steve’s sweats and kisses the tendon running up the length of his neck. “We should go to dinner,” he murmurs. “And you should wear the stockings. They’ll be dry, won’t they?”

Steve shivers and Tony can’t help his grin.

“Should be,” Steve says, voice sticking in his throat. “They're—thin.”

Tony chuckles, low in his chest, and Steve sags a little, held up by his grip around the edge of the sink as he tilts his head back further and lets Tony press kisses into his skin.

A few minutes later, the sound of water overflowing into the center sink alerts them to the fact that it’s full.

“Shit,” Steve says and Tony laughs.

“Sure you don’t want to send out?”

Steve shoots him a dirty look. “I’m sure.”

Tony smirks. There’s a flush high on Steve’s cheekbones, and the bulge in his sweatpants is a little more noticeable. Good. Let him stew. Cheerfully, Tony starts hauling the panties into the water. He swishes them around in small batches, gets them good and saturated, and then hands them over to Steve, who gingerly works each pair over the washboard and rinses them in a stream of clean water in the third basin.

They’re nearly finished when Tony gets distracted watching Steve’s back and shoulders work under the thin fabric of his tee. He bites his lip and barely stifles a giggle as he presses soap sud-covered hands to Steve’s ass.

Steve jerks and then groans, “Aw, Tony!”

Tony laughs and darts back, quickly wetting his hands again and pressing his soaked palms over Steve’s nipples. When he pulls back, they’re visible, pink through his t-shirt.

Tony waggles his eyebrows, pulling his lower lip through his teeth and Steve all but attacks him. He lets out a startled groan as Steve hoists him up onto the edge of the sink and plunges his tongue into Tony’s mouth. His hands slip up under Tony’s tank top, palms slick and warm from the wash water. Tony squirms, trying to get closer.

“AUGH, GUYS, REALLY?” Clint yells and Tony literally feels Steve start, decide he doesn’t care, and relax, pressing one last kiss to Tony’s mouth before he pulls back. “How many times have I gotta tell you guys not to do this in the common areas?” Clint demands.

Tony pokes his head around Steve’s shoulder. “Nobody’s makin’ you look.”

But Clint isn’t paying attention to Tony. His eyes have strayed to the washing they’d _almost_ finished, most of which is now pinned neatly to a line they  _were_  going to take back up to their room, a strange series of expressions twisting his features. “ _Seriously?_ ” he whines.

“You sure are closed-minded for a guy who was in the circus,” Tony remarks.

“I’ll get you back for this,” Clint vows, and disappears into the elevator, clothes still sitting just inside the room.

“Where were we?” Steve asks and Tony grins as he leans back in.


End file.
